Irrepressible
by AZGirl
Summary: Danny attempts to cope with life while Steve is in solitary confinement. Companion piece to Indomitable, but can be read alone. Season one spoilers. Likely to be AU.


**Title**: Irrepressible

**Summary**: Danny attempts to cope with life while Steve is in solitary confinement.

**Disclaimer**: Hawaii Five-0 is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

**Spoilers**: Season one.

**A/N**: While this is a stand-alone, probably AU piece, it is also a companion story to _Indomitable_.

ooooooo

That first night I don't spend much time getting Steve out of the mess he's gotten himself into, but instead I try not to feel guilty spending it on the phone with Rachel trying to explain why I'd missed our flight. I was just lucky to catch her while she and Grace were stuck in Los Angeles waiting for their connecting flight to New Jersey. Rachel seemed to understand why I couldn't just leave on the next available flight, why I needed to stay here and help Steve, but as we spoke, I could sense that she really didn't get it at all.

I tried not to think that our still fairly recent attempt at reconciliation was over so soon, but I couldn't help it given the way she sounded towards the end of the call. Her tone of voice was suspiciously like the one she had adopted with me just before we split up the first time.

As much as I wanted to be with Grace and with Rachel and the baby, I just couldn't leave Steve just as he was being arrested and his life turned upside down. He's innocent of the murder charges and doesn't deserve what's happening to him. Doesn't deserve to have the same people behind his parents' murders out enjoying their freedom while Steve has to spend 23 out of every 24 hours in a prison cell designed to keep him isolated (and supposedly safe) from the rest of the prison population.

Besides, I'd never forgive myself and definitely would never be able to look my kids in the eye again if I left Hawaii before Steve was exonerated. I had to help my partner, my friend – my _best friend_, if I were honest with myself – out of this mess he's landed himself in.

I manage to get a few hours of sleep, and by the time I get hold of someone at the JAG office in the morning, the only thing they will tell me is that Lieutenant Commander McGarrett has indeed requested representation from their office, and that a public defender has been sent to offer aid. With that barely helpful piece of information, they disconnect the call.

At first I'm relieved that the Navy is providing representation to Steve, but then after a minute my brain finally catches up with the wording the person on the other end of the line had used, what they actually said. A public defender? What the hell is going on? Why would JAG be sending a PD to defend him—?

Unless… O God. No. They wouldn't do that to Steve, would they?

Even as I ask myself that question, I know the answer is 'yes' – they could and would do that to Steve. They would court-martial the SEAL if he was found guilty, heck they'd probably try to do it even if he wasn't found guilty.

I wonder if Steve knows yet. I can only imagine how devastated he'll be when he finds out about that development. He's given more than a decade of his life to the Navy and they've all but washed their hands of him even before the courts can hold him over for trial. Doesn't my friend's many years of dedicated and honorable service, the blood he's shed, count for anything with them? I can't help but ball my fists in anger and want to hit something because of this latest news.

And given the late hour, I don't have enough time to find him a proper lawyer for his arraignment instead of whichever public defender gets assigned to Steve's case. Maybe Kono or Chin has a cousin who's a criminal defense attorney or at least knows an attorney willing to take on Steve as a client. Because of all the hazard pay he's probably earned and likely saved up from his years as a SEAL going on classified missions, money is not likely going to be an issue in terms of his defense.

I then place a call to find out when my partner's arraignment is scheduled for, and find out it's this afternoon. And, for some reason only court personnel, the attorneys and Steve will be allowed inside the courtroom. What the hell? I know a judge can close the proceedings to the public, but to also close it to friends and family of both sides seems completely ludicrous. Did they think someone would try to bust Steve out or maybe try for revenge since Jameson was such a popular governor? Well, at the very least I can go to the court house. Maybe I can catch a glimpse of my partner there.

My attempt to see and support Steve however briefly fails as they must've taken McGarrett into the courtroom some other way than how prisoners are usually escorted into the building. I'm disappointed, but I don't leave figuring my favorite trouble maker's fate at this first phase will be spread like wild fire once the verdict is handed down. And, I'm not disappointed.

Barely a half hour after the scheduled start of my partner's arraignment, the news has reached me. McGarrett entered a plea of not guilty, but was denied bail as he was deemed a flight risk. I snort, and cover my smile with a hand. Of course, he's considered a flight risk. He's a friggin' SEAL and could've already escaped custody several times over if he had wanted to. But, as he's _not_ guilty… I sigh. The last bit of news doesn't really surprise me. Steve's going to be held over in solitary confinement at Halawa Correctional until the trial six months from now.

After the last couple of days of events, I was determined that Steve does not make it to that trial – at least not on the defendant's side of the courtroom. I was determined more than ever to see Steve cleared of all charges as soon as possible.

My partner was set up. It's as simple as that, and no one can convince me otherwise. Even though he was trained to kill, he would never murder someone in cold blood. And, being a sniper – if he even was one (in my head, I can hear Steve say: _It's classified_) – didn't count as he would've been under orders. Steve may have been reckless and too driven by his emotions the last few days, but he would only want justice for his parents' deaths _not_ revenge. That just wasn't his friend's way of doing things.

The rest of my afternoon is spent trying to find out the name of Steve's attorney. Eventually I get a name and number, but when I call he's not scheduled to be in the office for the rest of the day.

As I'm driving back to my apartment, Kono calls asking me if I've heard the news about Steve's arraignment. By the end of the conversation, I have the names of a couple of her cousins who are criminal defense attorneys. She also told me about her day which included a visit to Kamekona's place for pineapple-flavored shaved ice. When I get off the phone, I grin in delight. Pineapple-flavored shaved ice was a prearranged signal between the two of us that meant she now had the number from Shamu of Chin's new untraceable cell phone and we could move on to the next phase of our plan.

I immediately go home and change into jeans and a t-shirt, donning a ball cap before heading out to a store on the other side of the Island to buy a burner phone with some cash I'd stashed away for emergencies – this whole situation certainly qualified. At least now I could keep in touch with Chin. I may have acted pissed off at him for arresting McGarrett, but I'd figured out pretty quickly that Chin went back to HPD so we'd have a man on the inside. Now that we had the means to communicate, we could more easily work together on getting Steve out of prison.

The next day, I finally get hold of the attorney from the public defender's office that was representing my partner at his arraignment. It was late in the afternoon when I spoke to him, but what he told me nearly made me drop my phone.

The guy whose name I kept forgetting informed me that Steve was going to keep him on as his attorney. It took me nearly a full minute of cursing and yelling at Steve inside my head to be able to speak again. I thought the guy was joking at first, but somehow he convinced me he wasn't though something seemed off and I definitely didn't like him.

I'd just have to wait until visitors were allowed to see Steve (starting tomorrow) before I could verbally knock some sense into the friggin' idiot moron. What the heck was he thinking? The better question was: _Was_ he thinking?

Even if Steve has that much faith in his team to get him cleared, he should still have an attorney who can mount a proper defense just in things continue to go pear-shaped. Which, given our bad luck lately, it will. If I do have a tone, then Steve is definitely going to hear it when I see him tomorrow. And when he does get exonerated, I'm going to kick his ass for being so reckless with his freedom.

That evening I head to Steve's house. I figured that I could get together some of his books, magazines, and his iPod to give him when I see him. These are all things I know he's allowed in solitary, and I can bring him more stuff to help him pass the time the next time I visit. Maybe I could even get Gracie to send Steve some drawings once I explain the situation to her.

Steve's house is a mess. HPD's obviously searched it for evidence, and I spend some time trying to put things back in some semblance of order. There's no reason Steve should have to come home to an obviously careless search of his house. I briefly wonder if HPD found anything, but figure I'd have to wait until I could talk to Chin to find out.

The next morning, I drive out to Halawa for my first of likely many visits with Steve. When I check in, I'm told that my partner is not allowed any visitors at this time. Asking why, the only thing the officers will tell me is that my friend is under disciplinary action and is also not permitted any personal items either at this time. When I ask for how long this punishment is going to be in effect, I'm told it's for three days. I can only assume Steve acted up in some way when he was processed and given that he's already in solitary that this is the only way they can punish him. Great. Of course Super SEAL would mess up his only chance of outside contact for the near future.

With a frustrated sigh, I head out to where Steve and I hid one of the many copies of the files and information we have on Wo Fat. It's going to be missing several days of intel, but with Chin and Jenna's help, we should be able to easily reconstruct it. I take an irregular route just in case I'm being followed, and by the time I have to make the final turnoff, I'm convinced that I don't have a tail. I hope that no tracker has been put on my car, but even if one has been put on my car, where I'm headed is only one of many places copies of the evidence have been hidden.

We had learned our lesson from when Mary was kidnapped and copied the evidence onto flash drives to be stashed away by each of us all over the Island. I can't be sure, but I got the impression that Chin even has managed to get a copy or two off of Oahu. And, following that example, I went so far as to send a copy to a friend in New Jersey. He was my first Captain when I graduated the police academy and was assigned to a station house. He was a great mentor to me and we have become pretty good friends. I know he'll watch over what I sent him without any questions.

When I reach my final destination, the cemetery, I head directly to the grave of Steve's father. If John McGarrett had never been murdered, then I would never have met Steve. And though I grieve for the way in which Steve lost his father, I am also absurdly grateful for it too. Life on the Islands has been so much better since I was shanghaied into joining Five-0 by my hyper-focused Navy SEAL of a partner. Despite all the things I've said and the fact that it's all gone fubar lately, it's the best thing to ever happen to my career.

I lay down the flowers I picked up on my way here and make a solemn vow. _I'm not going to stop until I prove your son innocent and restore his honor, Jack. I won't let either of you down. You can count on that._

I reach out and clear the leaves from the stone and get up to leave. As I'm walking back to my car, I idly wonder where my friend's mother is buried. Steve's never mentioned it and when we dropped the flash drive full of evidence off here, he didn't visit her grave – if there even is one considering she died in an explosion. My heart breaks a little just then for my friend. His parents murdered and now he's suffering just because he wanted justice for them. How can that ever be right?

Stopping against a tree, I lean over and take off one of my shoes pretending something managed to get inside and irritate my foot. As I lean back down to put it back on, I reach inside a small hole in the tree's trunk and retrieve a plastic baggy which happened to have a flash drive inside it. Now all I have to do is buy a cheap but serviceable little notebook computer so I can access the files contained on the drive. Go back over everything. Find out where we went wrong. Where I failed as Steve's partner.

One thing I do know is that I let myself get distracted lately with my reconciliation with Rachel. Getting back together with her and getting a little 'Barry White' has been great. And finding out I was going to be a dad again was just…wow. I never thought it would happen again and especially not ever again with Rachel. As much as I love my family, I feel like I let Steve down by not 'watching his six'. _Great._ _Now I'm using military phrases,_ I think as I throw my hands up in the air, not able to stop a grin from breaking out on my face_. Steve's definitely a bad influence on me_.

As the days go by, what's left of Five-0 manages to reunite and start working in earnest to clear Steve. It's difficult, hard work putting all the pieces together when you have no resources and are forced to work in secret. Rarely do we all meet together and it's frustrating to have to operate like this. Given our lack of resources, we have to rely on the kindness of our friends, of which there aren't very many right now. To compound our difficulties, Five-0 is still dealing with the fall-out from Steve's arrest.

Kono has been suspended for the duration of the investigation into the theft of the $10 million from the asset forfeiture locker. Which, ironically, Chin's been cleared of any involvement. To keep off IA's radar she's taken up helping a friend teach kids how to swim and surf. She loves it, but really misses being a cop and working with Five-0.

Chin is still with HPD and his working relationship with his fellow officers has undergone a complete turnaround from when he first starting working with Five-0. He manages to make a couple of properly executed big busts which have only helped his standing with the department. In public, we still act as though we hate each other, and it kills me to have to be that way with my friend even though it's for a very good cause.

I'm stuck riding a desk until IA decides what to do with me. Until they decide if I was involved in the theft or if I'm an accessory to Steve's alleged crimes or both, I'm stuck being a glorified paper pusher. Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork is all I'm allowed to do all day long unless I'm asked to work crowd control for public events. And I'm in no way allowed to have access to anything related to the governor's murder.

If I'm caught working on anything related to the murders Steve's been accused of, I'll be immediately dismissed and charged with either obstruction or with tampering with evidence or heck probably some combination of all of the above. When the Chief informs me of this on my first day back to work, I have to shove my hands into my pockets and clamp my mouth shut for fear of saying or doing something that would immediately ruin my career and likely land me in jail.

I spend my days at HPD HQ being treated like a leper tainted as a cop because I was – _am_ – Steve's partner and because I'm still being investigated by IA. When I first came to Hawaii, I was an outsider because of the way I choose to dress professionally and that I'm a haole. Being an outsider because of my looks was much easier than being the partner and friend of the governor's alleged murderer.

A few days after I was told Steve wasn't allowed visitors, I attempt to see him again. I bring along the care package I previously put together just in case he's allowed to have it this time. I even added a bag of York Peppermint Patties knowing my friend will get a kick out of seeing them. He knows that I know about his 'secret' addiction to the candy and he knows that I steal one or two from his hidden stash each time I visit. Steve has never said anything about the missing candies probably because he doesn't want anyone to know he actually eats something that's not good for him. Plus I think he gets a kick out of the fact that we both share this minor obsession for the minty treat.

Up until today, I've repeatedly attempted to get in touch with Steve's lawyer. But, no matter how many messages I leave, he never returns my calls, is never in his office and supposedly has no openings for appointments either. Frustrating doesn't even seem to be the best word to describe this avoidance of me that Pita has going on.

I know the guy has a proper name, but in my head, he pretty quickly became known as Steve's '_P_ain _i_n _t_he _A_ss Attorney' or 'Pita' for short. And this guy was definitely a pain in the ass attorney. From what I've found out about him, I'm also worried that Pita is not experienced enough to mount a proper defense for my partner. He's just passed the bar this year and he's been assigned to a high-profile case? Something is seriously wrong with the system if rookies are assigned to cases of this magnitude.

This time, when I arrive at the jail, they take their time searching my care package for Steve for contraband before someone finally lets me know that my friend is refusing all visitors except for his attorney.

What the—? Why in the hell would Steve refuse to see me? I'm his partner and his friend and the guy who is trying to get his Rambo-self out of prison – damn it!

Does he think not seeing anyone will in some way protect us from Wo Fat? That distance from him really matters when we're all so deeply involved and so heavily invested in the outcome?

I try to leave my care package for my idiot friend, but his jailers say it's not permitted. I'm so angry at Steve that I forget to ask why it's not allowed as I storm out of there.

My luck finally seems to be changing a little when I run into Pita who is walking towards the prison's entrance just as I'm on my way to my car. I confront the incompetent fool about Steve refusing visitation with anyone. But, much to my annoyance, his lawyer completely agreed with his client's decision because most of his friends are with law enforcement and it's difficult to know who is on whose side. And, no matter how hard I try to get it through Pita's head that I'm Steve's partner and am in no way allowed near the case – that I only want to see the guy because he's my friend – the attorney won't budge. He refuses to try to convince my friend to change his mind and accept visitors.

Forget kicking my partner's ass when I see him; I'm going to shoot the guy for this latest absurd stunt he's pulled. The only way now to communicate with Steve is via snail mail – one letter to be sent every day if possible.

I write the first letter when I get home from work that day. In that first one, I let myself rant about my friend's recent actions without giving up any incriminating details. I also ask him for some sort of explanation that makes sense to normal people. I know he won't be able to divulge his plan to me using such an insecure method of communication as a return letter, but I think he's probably missing my rants about now and will enjoy reading it even if he can't reply the way he wants to.

The next day, way too early in the morning, my phone rings bringing me out of a deep sleep. The caller ID says it's Rachel. My heart rate starts to pick up. Why is she calling so early? Granted in New Jersey – he groans when he sees the time – it's almost 9:30 AM, but usually she's good about the time difference. She wouldn't call me at three in the morning unless something is wrong. _God, I hope they're okay_, I think as I answer the phone.

And, my girls are okay – after a fashion. In fact, Gracie is wonderful. She's having a great time hanging out with her cousins and being spoiled by my parents. But Rachel…

She finally got in to see the doctor this morning and found out—

I force myself to take a deep breath. Then another.

Rachel found out that it was a false positive. There is no baby.

I told her I'd be on the next flight out to New Jersey – I just couldn't let her go through this, uh, disappointment alone. But, she blew my mind when she told me to stay in Hawaii. That she needed time to think about what's happened.

After she hung up, I just sit there with my elbows on my knees stunned at the news and worried at the implications of Rachel's words.

There is no baby.

I'm not going to be a dad again.

The news shakes me up so badly that I feel like I really need to talk to Grace, hear her voice, but Rachel had mentioned that my parents had already left with the grandkids for a trip to the Shore. I didn't want to interrupt her fun, no matter how much I wanted to be with her right now (if only over the phone), and I'll be talking to her later today anyway. I wonder if she knows yet that she's not going to be a big sister. That things will be different now.

Once I'd recovered from the initial panic from the news that I was going to be a father again at a time when everything else in my life was practically in chaos, I really had begun to look forward to it. I never thought I'd have a second chance to have a family with Rachel. And then everything – Rachel wanting to leave and Steve's arrest – happened so fast. My life had turned upside down when I first found out and now again with this news.

I pick up my phone and without thinking hit the speed dial for Steve's number. I really could use my best friend right now and I know he won't care that it was so early. In fact, Aquaman is probably awake (freak early bird that he can be) and already contemplating his morning swim so—

When the voice mail kicks in, that's when reality also kicks back in. Steve's in jail and the only way I'm going to be able to have my friend by my side again is if I work the case and get him cleared of the murder charges. When the beep sounds, I almost say something, but instead I let out a frustrated sigh and hang up. If – _when_ – I get Steve out of jail, I know for sure he'll ask me about that message.

That will be an interesting conversation, but I know that though he might be a little angry that I kept something so big from him, in the end he'll understand the situation with Rachel and just be there for me. It's just who he is. He'll do anything for anyone he considers his ohana, and I'm pretty sure that's how he thinks of me.

Not just the kind of family born from being on the job, but something more. If I'm honest with myself, I'd have to acknowledge that Steve probably considers me to be something akin to a brother, second in his regard only to his sister. And I find that I'm OK with that.

Despite our tempestuous beginning as partners, and our vast differences, we've become close friends. And the way he treats Grace, I know he really cares for her too. I could really use my best friend right about now.

I can't get back to sleep and it's still way too early to go into work, so I force myself to sit down and write my daily letter to Steve hoping it will give me something to think about besides my crumbling relationship with Rachel. Because I know that every letter will be read by others besides Steve, I don't bother to include anything too personal. In fact, once I get past the greetings and a vague report on how Grace is, I've no idea what to say. Everything I do want to talk about, I can't mention and not just because it's too personal. I should've made the time to tell my friend what was going on in my life – not that I really had a chance to with trying to keep Steve from imploding.

I sit there pen in hand for a while and I still got nothing until a stray memory pops into my head, which prompts an idea, but I need to go to the office to execute it. Once there, I print out from HPD's computer network the relevant section from the book of rules and procedures on the concept of having back-up on the job. I staple the pages to the letter and send it off with a laugh. Hopefully a reminder of one of our most frequent discussions (arguments) will lift his spirits a little. Oddly enough it helped to lift mine. Even in prison my friend manages to be there for me.

By the time I start writing the next letter, I realize how hard it is to have to talk to my partner like this especially since I'm not able to see and judge his reactions and expressions. I can't mention anything about the team's efforts to get Steve out of jail nor can I mention anything too personal just in case the wrong people get any ideas. The job is so boring right now, that unless I want to tell him about the mind-numbing work I'm doing as a desk jockey; I've got nothing really left to talk about.

I don't want to duplicate info either so I avoid mentioning our other friends. I know Kono writes about the surf report and how the waves were and little bits about Chin in a mock attempt at reconciliation between the two guys. We're pretty sure Steve knows that Chin is on his side. In order to maintain his cover though, Chin doesn't at all try to communicate with his ex-boss. And, Grace said, once I explained what was going on, that she is going to send her Uncle Steve drawings of things she's done with her mom and grandparents. Hopefully all the mail from his friends will convince him to change his mind about visitation.

I'm correcting a patrol officer's spelling of the word 'Mirandized' when an inspiration hits me. I enlarge on a copier a copy of the Miranda rights as we were supposed to recite them when taking a suspect into custody. Then I search the internet for a full copy of the Supreme Court's decision of _Miranda v. Arizona_. At the top of that print out, I scribble –_ A little light reading for you _ – and stuff the pages into an envelope. Legal documents and research are allowed for inmates in solitary so it should make it to him OK. We've talked about Miranda rights enough times as well so Steve should get the joke.

As the days go on, I continue the trend and send something that refers to things we've been through together since we first met – the recipe for a Blue Hawaiian on a drink coaster, a postcard of the petroglyphs, a sushi menu from Morimoto's, etc. Kono is worried that the reminders of life outside solitary will make Steve feel even more trapped, but I don't think so. I think they'll be reminders of what is waiting for him on the outside. And, more importantly, I think the letters will serve as a reminder that we're still there for him, that we haven't abandoned him, and that I haven't forgotten my promise.

The day of my third letter to Steve, the one about Miranda rights, I call Rachel to see how she's doing. We don't talk long on the phone and towards the end of our conversation I once again offer to come out there, but again she tells me to stay where I am. She sounds little distant towards me, but she also sounds exhausted so I hope it's just that I'm hearing in her voice. Just before we say goodnight, I tell her that I love her and in return all I hear is a dial tone. I hold out a fleeting hope that she didn't hear what I said, but it's then that I know our attempt at reconciliation won't last much longer.

As much as that thought kills me, what kills me more is having no idea what Rachel's going to do next. Because wherever she goes with Grace, Rachel's got to know by now that I'm going to follow sooner or later. I find myself hoping my ex will come back to the Islands. Because as much as I still miss New Jersey and don't feel at home here, I don't like being without my daughter even more. And, I don't want to leave my friend in this predicament. I can't leave here until I fulfill my promise to help Steve. That's just what partners, what _friends,_ do for each other.

Two and a half weeks later, I get a surprise visit at my desk at HPD by Pita. My stomach clenches at the first sight of him and I can't help but think I'm about to get some bad news.

God, I hate being right.

It was bad news. Pita, without any greeting whatsoever, simply walked right up to me, opened his briefcase and handed me a stack of letters. It was all the ones I'd sent to Steve, opened and read according to the prison's stamp on the front of the envelope. I thumbed through the pile and discovered that several drawings from Grace to Steve had been returned to me as well. How am I going to explain _that_ to my daughter?

In as calm a voice as I was capable of at that moment, I shove my hands under my armpits in order to avoid violent accidents and ask Pita why I was getting all my letters returned because I knew for certain that for prisoners in solitary the rules allowed for mail. The rookie attorney's explanation is dispassionate with a hint of something I can't quite identify. He explains that Steve has requested he not be contacted by anyone but his lawyer by any means of communication, including mail.

When coherent thought returns, I'm not sure what to think about Steve's latest idiotic stunt. No contact at all? Not even from my daughter who only wanted to make her Uncle Steve feel better? Why would he hurt my Gracie's feelings like that?

It just doesn't make any sense. I never got around to telling Steve about my plans to leave Hawaii to be with Rachel and Grace nor did I get the chance to tell him about the almost baby. So, it can't be that he's angry with me. Besides he wouldn't hurt Grace's feelings just to get back at me. No matter the evidence of the returned letters in my hands, he just wouldn't do that to her. I know him so there must be some other reason for this radio silence he's enforcing.

An hour later, I get a text from Kono. It's short and to the point: _WTF?_ Well, now I at least have confirmation that it's not just me. Steve's cut off all forms of communication to all of us.

Later in the day a memo comes through HPD's interoffice mail. All attempts at communication by the department were to go strictly through McGarrett's attorney – no exceptions except by court order.

I'm not really surprised by the news, but I'm definitely confused by the strategy behind it. Steve not wanting to talk to us, not trying to find out every last minute detail about what's going on beyond the prison walls is so very much _not_ like the Steve I know. He would never give up either. I wouldn't be surprised if his 'never give up' attitude was something he was born with, and not something the SEALs ever had to drum into him.

Something is wrong. It's like Steve has been systematically cut off from all outside contact. That stray thought ignites my imagination and the truth behind it solidifies in my heart. And in my mind, realization floods in.

Wo Fat.

The bastard is still manipulating us, putting us all through hell, especially Steve. God only knows what he's done to my friend while he's been in prison. Did he threaten to hurt us if my partner if he kept in touch with any of us? Does Steve even realize he's being purposely cut off from us?

And where does Pita fit into this?

HPD's case is shaky at best given the forensics that has been uncovered. There was no GSR on Steve's gloves and only the faintest trace on one of Steve's pants legs. No blood spatter was found on any of his clothes. And, the trajectory of the bullet was all wrong for someone of Steve's height.

It's all evidence that helps Steve's case – certainly in terms of reasonable doubt – but Pita is not doing anything about it. Everyone thinks they've got the right person behind bars and they've stopped looking for the real killer or killers of Laura Hills and Governor Jameson.

According to my sources, the Prosecuting Attorney thinks his case is strong enough for a conviction especially since Steve was found in the governor's office with the murder weapon in his hand. But, then again, he's under a lot of pressure from the State and the media to see this case through no matter how shaky the evidence or the motive. I can't really fault the guy for doing his job.

But, I can and _will_ fault Pita for the gross incompetence he's displaying towards his defense of Steve. Between junior attorney's saying that Steve doesn't want visitors or any outside contact whatsoever and his negligence of the case, I'm convinced that Pita is working with Wo Fat. Now all we have to do is prove it.

It's quite a game that bastard Wo Fat is playing with my friend's life. Not only is he trying to get Steve convicted of murder when he's completely innocent of the crime, but he's also isolating my friend in that prison. Perhaps he's trying to make him think his friends have abandoned him. That we don't believe he's innocent.

A shudder runs through me at the thought that maybe Wo Fat is doing more than isolating Steve. Can one of his minions get to and hurt my partner in solitary? Or would the guy want to draw it out and make the SEAL suffer for as long as possible before delivering the killing stroke? Definitely the second option seems to be more likely at this point though I still worry about the first option.

Oddly enough, despite the fact that Steve is stuck in prison, subject to whatever whims of cruelty Wo Fat can conjure up and get away with, I'm not all that much more worried about my partner. As much as I sometimes hate Super SEAL's methods of getting things done, I'm very thankful now that he's had that training. Because most likely he's had to learn how to endure torture and I am absolutely positive it will help him cope with whatever they're doing in Halawa to break him.

My thoughts wander a bit and I wonder if Steve's ever been imprisoned and if he'd ever tell me about it if I asked. He probably could tell me bits and pieces, but instead he'd likely deflect, say it's classified and change the subject. I also wonder how this imprisonment compares to any other time he may have had to endure it.

One thing I have faith in is that, no matter what he's going through with this imprisonment, he knows that his team – that _I_ – will not stop until he's free of that hell. I know he will endure this like everything else he's been through in his life. That's just who he is, and he inspires me to do the same through the current trials in my life.

And, I'll never admit this out loud to anyone ever, but I've missed my friend throughout everything that's happened in my personal life lately. Missed our banter. Missed his dedication towards putting the bad guys in prison.

One guy who definitely deserves to be in prison is Wo Fat. And, I'm going to have the team really start looking into Pita's life and financials. Because if we can prove that Pita is negligent, is under Wo Fat's thumb, then maybe we can get rid of him and get Steve a new, competent attorney who would get the restriction on visitors lifted. Or, better yet, we could use Pita to catch Wo Fat and finally get some justice for Steve's family.

Either way I will not rest until I see my friend walk out the front gate of that prison. I'm not going to let anything else stop me now.

I will endure for my friend's sake, for all our sakes.

ooooooo

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**A/N**: Blame/Thank Jaz22 for this companion piece to _Indomitable_. She suggested it and the idea wouldn't leave me alone.

No beta on this one, so all mistakes are mine. I'm not an expert on the law, so I'm well aware that I sort of skip some (lots) procedures, tweak a few things, and ignore some rights. I've also purposely messed with some elements of this story like time line, flow, transitions, and verb tenses.

_**Thanks for reading!**_


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